Sophie, our little silver-laced wyandotte hen, was being especially poopyheaded today. As the animals are my sole responsibility for much of this month, I decided to scrub all the water containers during the last moments of daylight and fill them with fresh water. You'd think my biddies would appreciate this. Sophie, not so much. As soon as she saw me with their self-filling waterer, she started giving me 'tude, mainly in the form of stretching her neck and snaking her head side-to-side. Then, when I turned my back to open the gate, bang! Both feet and a bill, right into the back of my calf. "Hey!" I yelled at her. Bang! again. I managed to get out and clean out the water container. On the way back, I noticed she was waiting for me, so I set the waterer down. As I came in the gate I scooped her up. As usual, she submitted (cutely, btw) by crouching down and spreading her wings a little. I petted her for a bit before I went out, picked up the waterer and carried them both back in.
Beatrice was happy with the fresh water, and sampled a bit. Sophie started giving me 'tude again! So I menaced her with my shoe. She didn't peck it, but maybe I'll have her trained like we trained our old rooster. He hated shoes and boots so much, he attacked them rather than our tender legs.
Silly Sophie. I think she's laying kinda sporadically, too. Tomorrow I'll set out some crushed oyster shells, and maybe I'll get them some sunflower seeds. They might be getting deficient in something. And if that doesn't fix her temperament, I'll know she's definitely deficient in one major area: Manners.
My tweets - - *Mon, 14:56*: an interesting take on the all-white-male photos = it's on purpose https://t.co/enHRH8UBuc - *Mon, 17:55*: Whaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?...
6 hours ago